Blew away from the long night with the inspired wind of the dream, I was standing on the edge of the road, under the clear sky, all gold, in an extraordinary mountainous country. I felt, without looking, the gloss, the corners and edges of huge mosaic rocks, and the dazzling abysses, and the mirror sparkle of many lakes lying somewhere below, behind me. The soul was seized by the feeling of divine diversity, will and embroidery: I knew I was in paradise. But in my earthly soul, there was a single earthly thought in the fiery flames -- and how jealously, as I have guarded myself from the breath of gigantic beauty that surrounds me... This thought, this naked flame of suffering, was the thought of my earthly homeland: barefoot and beggar, on the edge of the mountain road I waited for celestials, merciful and radiant, and the wind, as a premonition of a miracle, played in my hair, filled the gorges with crystal roar, excited fairytale silk trees blossoming between the rocks, along the road; long grasses were licked up the trunks like tongues of fire; large flowers were slowly pulled from the shining branches and, like flying bowls poured by the sun to the edges, slid over the air, blowing up transparent, convex petals; the smell of them, raw and sweet, reminded me of all the best I had ever known. And suddenly the road I was standing on, suffocating from the shine, filled with a storm of wings... The crowd grew out of some dazzling failures, and the angels were waiting for me. Their walk seemed to be airy, like the movement of colored clouds, transparent faces were still, but rapturously shaking radiant eyelashes. Between them, turquoise birds floated, laughing with a happy girl's laughter, and rode flexible orange animals in bizarre black cramps: they wriggled in the air, silently threw away satin paws, caught flying flowers - and spinning, and wriggling, and shining eyes, ran past me ... Wings, wings, wings, wings! How can I convey their curves and shades? They were all powerful and soft - red, purple, thick blue, velvety black, with fire dust on the round ends of curved feathers. Rapidly these steep clouds stood over the glowing shoulders of the angels; the other one, in some marvelous impulse, as if unable to hold back the bliss, suddenly, for a moment, plowed out its winged beauty, and it was like a splash of the sun, like a sparkle of millions of eyes. Crowds of them passed, looking upwards. I saw their eyes gleefully abyssing, their eyes freezing, their eyes freezing. They walked smoothly, sprinkled with flowers. Flowers spilled their damp shine on the fly: playing, spinning, and stirring up, bright, smooth animals: the birds rang blissfully, soaring and sinking, and I, blinded, shaking beggar, stood at the edge of the road, and in my poor soul still babbling thought:
I would pray, pray to them, tell them, ah, tell them that the most beautiful of God's stars has a country - my country - dying in the dark. I felt that if I had taken a handful of shimmering reflections, I would have brought such joy into my country that I would have instantly enlightened myself, spun people's souls to the splash and crunch of the resurrected spring, to the golden thunder of the temples that had woken up...
And, with my hands trembling, trying to block the angels' way, I began to grab the edges of their brightly colored vines, the wavy, hot fringe of curved feathers, sliding through my fingers like fluffy flowers, I moaned, I was metal, I begged for charity in a frenzy, but the angels went forward and forward, without noticing me, turning upward the sharpened faces. Their multitudes strove for the paradise feast, into the unbearably shining light where the Deity was climbing and breathing: I dared not think of him. I saw fire webs, splashes, patterns on giant, ruddy, red, and purple wings, and above me there were waves of fluffy rustling, turquoise birds sneaking around in rainbow crowns, flowers floating from shiny branches...
Wait, listen to me," I shouted, trying to hug the lungs of the angel's legs, "but their feet - imperceptible, unstoppable - slid through my outstretched arms, and the edges of my wide wings, waving by, only scorched my lips.
And far away, the golden gap between the richly colored rocks was filled with their lapping storm; they were leaving, leaving, freezing the high laughter of the birds of paradise, ceasing to fly flowers from the trees: I was weakened, quiet..